The Dixons: Walking Dead
by Strangerthanstrange
Summary: Just a story about the Dixon boys a year before actually encountering Shane's group: violence, foul language, racial slurs, nudity, drug use and alcohol use and some sexual content
1. 1

**A/N: Another short Dixon brothers fic; it takes place a month before the Dixon bros meet up with Rick's gang and are left on their own. I've been reading a ton of Dixon brothers fics and they were all so good, and I think that I found a new otp of mine don't get creeped out but I think I fell in love with Amy/Merle and Amy/Daryl but mostly Amy/Merle so Amy might appear in this story nothing huge and she _MIGHT_! Anywho, I plan on making this about the boys and how they survive during the apocalypse while on their own and it will be a mature read! Warnings below!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any one nor do I make profit from the making of this! I proudly leave it to AMC and Mr. Kirman and Frank Darabont!**

**Warnings: foul language and slight abuse**

**Hot: Walking Dead**

**::**

It was hot, fucking hot! Daryl lagged behind which only caused another round of inappropriate curse words to explode from Merle's lips as he stopped to wait. He usually never waited but today he did and Daryl didn't like it.

He held the bow tighter, the arrow brushing right across the top of his bare shoulder, both arms exposed to the heat of the sun. The brothers haven't always wandered off together as one much but today was a day for everything and Merle honestly preferred if Daryl stayed at his side. They've finally made it back to their camp site which was only made up of one large tent, a small one right beside it and a silly little fire pit in the middle. Daryl was usually stuck in the small one while Merle took the larger much roomier one just to be a dick and because he could.

Only certain nights would Merle ever let him sneak inside with him, that was only if there were walkers right outside, but where they've set up camp, walkers never really came close to them.

Merle squatted down right in front of the fireless pit and stared up at Daryl who stood there on the other side like an idiot, looking up where he shouldn't; "Hey Darlina, that there son ain't gonna' make yer' eyes any better," he didn't snap but Merle's usual gruff, cracked voice normally gave Daryl the chills and the youngest sibling relieved himself from the burning rays of the sun, walking over towards his tent, shoving his bow inside.

Daryl didn't come back out after. Merle sat there for a few minutes longer just to lose himself in his own thoughts. He needed a drink and he needed some food.

He stood up and brushed off his dirty jeans, looking back at Daryl's tent. "Darlina, you gonna' come hunt'n with me or you gonna' stay here and pout, I need some food," he marched towards the large tent and gave Daryl's a kick before entering his own to grab a can of beer.

It was a good thing Daryl spotted that unoccupied Pepsi truck when the boys were wandering cautiously around the city for food or something, and the strange thing about that Pepsi truck was that it wasn't full of Pepsi at all it was full of Bud Light which made Merle a little bit joyful; that was probably the only great thing Daryl had done in a long time, that really made Merle somewhat pleased.

Darly shifted a lot in the tent and popped out a minute after Darly left his, guzzling down his warm beverage. "I'm comin' with you Merle, jus' quit yer' drinkin' you know what that does to you, and we—I don't need no drunk on my hands while searchin' for somethin' to kill!" Daryl snapped, of course he snapped because he was fed up with Merle's bull all the fucking time, but he knew when enough was enough; he didn't want to end up on the ground, or pinned up against a nearby tree, a fist full of his shirt in Merle's hand just from trying to protect himself and his brother, but he let Merle do what he wanted to do. "Boy dontchu' ever tell me shit like that, jus' keep it to yer'self, now wipe off yer' pants, looks like you shit yer'self!" Merle always had to be the one to harm, but no Daryl was never EVER allowed to throw curses like that at 'um and to hell with the shitty drawers, never had Daryl took a fucking shit in his own briefs it was fucking dirt.

But Daryl did what he was told and wiped off the front of his trousers then the back. Merle gave the boy a head jerk motion which told him to follow and the two of them fled further into the sticks.

**::**

**E/N: Just a short begining chapter to start out with! How good was it? Review me and make me happy :) thanks for reading! I'm still working on this so don't tune out...or else!**


	2. 2

**A/N: Just another Dixon episode! Daryl has to be the adult here well because Merle isn't, he just can't be, it's impossible! Read and enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any one nor do I make profit from the making of this! I proudly leave it to AMC and Mr. Kirman and Frank Darabont!**

**Warnings: Alcohol use, language and talk of slight abuse**

**Singing the Blues: Walking Dead**

**::**

Merle shot the deer, he fucking shot the deer and shot it perfectly! How the hell did he do that when he was drunk off his fucking ass? How Merle did things was a real mystery to Daryl.

"An' thats how you do it Darlina!" Merle put down the rifle and shoved a finger in his earhole. Daryl stood there, staring off into the distance giving no two shits about Merle right now. He watched the birds fly off, watched the grass sway in the light breeze and that's when it hit him, hard. "Get yer' head outta' yer' ass Darlina, I wanna' see you shoot somethin'!" Merle's wide hand took a good whip at the back of Daryl's head causing him to curse back in retaliation at the elder brother.

"Don't fuckin' call me Darlina no more, you fuckin' dick!" that was probably one of several mistakes he could ever make in front of or to Merle.

It was silent, everything somehow motionless. Merle was absolutely drunk but unfortunately that only excited his inebriated state, which only caused his abuse to worsen a hundred times more than if he were sober. "You don't fuckin' talk to me that way boy, drop to yer' knees!" Merle growled, his raspy voice startling Daryl, but he didn't obey, he never did. He just glared, and it only made matters worse.

Merle dropped his weapon completely and moved in closer, his booze-ridden breath making Daryl naucious. "Drop to yer' fuckin' knees boy, now!" Merle's voice grew louder with anger and rage and Daryl had no reason to keep disobeying, he would only get himself deeper into shit.

Daryl swallowed, trying to hide any signs of fear from his brother and he carefully bent to one knee, then the next. His eyes didn't meet Merle's like they should've. Merle removed his belt with a snap, and that insane grin on his lips made Daryl want to jump up and smack it right the fuck off. "You know better than to talk to me that way, Darlina, now turn 'round so I can give ya' a better whippin'!" Daryl still didn't listen really, he just sat there on his knees looking peering up at Merle with a cocky attitude. He didn't care if Merle beat him, he wasn't going to let him whip his ass with that fucking belt.

"Merle yer' drunk, an' retarded!" Daryl stood up still very cautious of Merle and his obvious intentions with an expression as mean as his.

Merle didn't remove his eyes from Daryl when he turned to spit. "Retarded, oh boy, yer' in for a beatin'!" his words were sloppy and drunk as they dripped slowly from his tongue, his belt limp in his grip. Daryl fixed his bow and propped it carelessly over his shoulder and began to walk off to look for his own fucking food. As he left Merle cursed!

Daryl was really in for it but there wasn't anything he could do to Daryl that he hasn't already done, honestly.

It hurt him that he'd even admit that to himself but it was the disgusting truth.

**.**

Daryl left Merle screaming and cursing in a drunken fit, creating his own path through the woods. The air was a bit cool today, not too cool but perfect. Daryl's eyes wandered just to keep his mind off things, he spotted several creatures, jumped over muddy streams, took a piss and continued his walk.

The day was quickly turning into mid-morning and Daryl had only caught a few squirrels and one snapping turtle. He still needed to skin them and the day was ending way too fast so he decided to take a break and stop by the little stream he'd just passed and do it there where he had some water to wash. He coughed and swallowed hunched over the stream, his feet aching from the crouch he was in, his weight heavy on his ankles.

Birds chirped in the wind, trees rustled, squirrles chattered and in the distance somewhere in the far distance he could still hear Merle cursing up to the skies. Daryl closed his eyes tight and cursed letting it out.

"Damn thin', this knife sucks!" Daryl laid the squirrel's dead body in the mud and began to penetrate starting in the middle of it's belly but the jagged blade wasn't cutting like it should; fuck! He grew impatient and irritated, and he knew it was wrong so he tried to calm. By the time he was done skinning, blood covered his hands and his knees and thighs as he used the back of his less bloodied hand to wipe beads of sweat from his forehead, leaving a dark trail of mud instead.

He knew if Merle wasn't out trying to look for him, then he was passed out somewhere, waiting for Daryl to look for _him_. God why did Merle have to be so fucking difficult, he was the oldest and he was supposed to be the one trying to get his little brother off the booze and the pot and all that other shit.

Daryl fucking hated Merle, but he didn't always hate him, he loved him just as much. "Fuck, it's hot!" Daryl used one hand as a visor to look up and there was the sun still peaking through the clouds and trees.

He knew he had to get back or at least try to find Merle.

**::**

**E/N: I hope it was good and readable! Thanks for reading see ya in a bit!**


	3. 3

**A/N: Just when Daryl thinks that he had Merle under control everything goes to shit again but not really! I have to tell you guys that someone makes a big appearance in this chapter and if everything goes well and if everyone gets along, then he/she will stay in the story! Please read and enjoy**

**Disclaimer:** **I do not own any one nor do I make profit from the making of this! I proudly leave it to AMC and Mr. Kirman and Frank Darabont! **

**Warnings: Language, talk of slight sexual themes and of course alcohol use**

**Something New: Walking Dead**

**::  
**

Daryl found Merle after 40 minutes or even more searching through the zombie infested wood. He was passed out near a couple of walkers who just about had him for dinner, but Daryl showed up just in time. God Merle was so fucking dumb; Daryl had to kick him a few times before he was actually showing signs of consciousness.

All he did in return to those kicks was spit curse words at him and try to help himself stand. Merle couldn't stand correctly, and Daryl could tell by that bloodied look in his eyes that he wasn't sober just yet.

"Don'tchu' fuckin' touch me!" Merle snapped just as Daryl reached over to take his hand but of course Merle fought and scared Daryl off. Daryl just looked off to the side at the limp corpses that nearly took Merle's sinful life, watching the blood quickly harden on their pale, grey flesh, flies instantly swarming in, in groups.

"We have to get back to camp, Merle, it's gettin' late," Daryl turned back around to look at his brother, who wobbled from side to side, trying to keep his balance but hell Merle couldn't even keep his balance when he was sober, he was always pissed all the fucking time it was hard for him to walk straight. Merle didn't argue this time which confused Daryl just a little bit, as they both trailed on back to camp, Daryl leading the way.

.

It was almost dark when they returned and Merle dropped to the ground rather painfully and gazed up at the sky. "Fuck," he sounded breathless, like all the air was sucked dry from him. Daryl watched him for a moment or so before heading over to the fire pit, starting up a fire, that he knew for sure Merle would enjoy.

As he did what he did, Merle just lay there a few steps behind Daryl, humming some unfamiliar tune. It really didn't bother Daryl though, honestly it was soothing and very calming, it was usually something Merle hadn't done in a long, long time. Tossing the sticks into the pit, the fire came to life, and he sat there crouched, his entire weight on his feet, looking over his shoulder at Merle, trying to get better quality of his soft humming. Damn he loved that so much, maybe that was the only thing he really did like of his older brother, but he didn't care at the moment.

"You should get yer' ass in that tent 'fore you pass out again, and this time I won't mind lettin' the walker take you," Daryl said just before crawling into his own small so-called holey tent, wiggling around to get comfortable.

Merle's humming stopped and Daryl closed his eyes tightly. He pulled the covers over him more, to hide just a tiny part of his face; he always did hate it when Merle stopped his humming, it always meant that he was alive and ready to taunt and humiliate his little brother. Daryl grabbed tighter to the sheet and clenched his jaw until it hurt.

He was silent for a moment, everything, silent, besides his own heart beat and creeping footsteps towards his tent.

Daryl needed to do something, he needed to stand up to that fucking bastard and it was sad; Daryl was a grown man and it was sick that Merle even felt the needs that he felt regularly. Daryl only knew it was to humiliate him and release sexual tension, Daryl needed to stand the fuck up this time and put a stop to it even if it ended up in blood.

The jagged zipper of the tent slowly rolled down, knotch after knotch. "Get yer' ass to bed Merle, yer' drunk leave me alone!" Daryl tossed the covers off and kicked the hell out of the tent, his skin already damp with cold sweat. He was afraid, nervous and angry. Merle didn't fight back yet, and he ended up winning against his little brother, squeezing his way inside. "Don'tchu' talk to me that way, I have a fuckin' headache, yer' bitchin' ain't makin' it better, so scooch yer' little ass over, I need to sleep," he slowly rezipped it, and what Merle did next gave Daryl a tiny heart-attack. What the fuck was going on?

Merle didn't tease, didn't play, touch, none of that; he rolled to his side and moved in close to Daryl who was too shocked to move from his current position, hoisted upon his elbows, looking down at him.

He swallowed loud and could smell booze paint the tent walls. What was he supposed to do? Let him lay here and stay up all goddamn night? "Ah, fuck, come on Merle, just share the blanket!" he growled slowly laying himself flat on his back, trying to find a way to get him faster into a deep sleep mode.

**.**

Daryl was the first Dixon to wake, and as soon as he could open his tired eyes, he heard the rain pound heavily over top of the little tent, creating a cool breeze, from all the tattered areas in the material.

He got up on his elbows since that was pretty much all the room, and looked down at Merle who was snoring like a dumbass on his stomach. Daryl nudged him a bit, but he didn't try it again even if he didn't budge, Daryl didn't want to start off getting a fucking beating for no reason. Daryl stretched, yawned, coughed, scratched his ass cheek, and carefully crawled free from the tent only to be attacked by the most horrible scream ever;

"What the hell!" he couldn't tell exactly where the screams were coming from but by the sound of it, it was a female, and she was alone.

If she fucking wakes Merle, Daryl's going to have a hissy-fit. "Someone, somebody, help!" the screams grew closer, closer and finally he met eyes with a young woman, blond hair, matted and greasy, tears rolling down her face blood staining her clothes. Another survivor;

**::**

**E/N: So how was that? Can you guess who it is, even though you probably already know! Thanks for reading and stay in tune for more**


	4. 4

**A/N: So I don't know if you guys have been wondering who the girl was, or what happened to me and the update but I thought a while about this story and I just knew I had to finish it because well the Dixons are awesome! So read through the story, like it or dislike it, doesn't matter to me, just one more thing this will probably be a very long story if I didn't already inform you guys of that. So hopefully you enjoy!**

**Disclaimer:** **I do not own any one nor do I make profit from the making of this! I proudly leave it to AMC and Mr. Kirman and Frank Darabont! **

**Warnings: Alcohol use, crude humor, language and slight sexual themes**

**The girl: Walking Dead**

**::**

Amy was her name, she had blond hair, perfect length, she was beautiful, very young and she was already enjoying her few hours spent with Daryl. They've just met, which only seemed like just a few minutes ago; Merle was asleep in the tent and Daryl wasn't planning on the two of them conversing. Fuck that, Daryl would die before he would ever let Amy speak one word to that fucking slob. So the two of them continued to chat, getting to know each other quite well. Daryl's never been that much into talking but something about her was breaking that wall. They both shared the log beside the empty fire-pit, the heat intense up until the point of their skin boiling and itching. "Fuckin' bugs, fuck!" Daryl continued to bat at those fucking gnats; he was sick of them and so was Amy, but he seemed to have more than she had. She did smell a lot better than him though maybe that was why but that didn't mean that he smelled like shit either, actually she admitted that she admired his scent.

It did make him stop what he was doing and stare at her like she was crazy. "Whatta' 'bout yer' friends 'er, uh, whoever they are, don'tchu' want to go back?" Daryl remembered Merle and how crazy and inappropriate he gets around women. He obtained that weird charm that made even the cutest of women come screaming his way and Daryl didn't understand it. Never had never would. Amy stood up to brush off her jean shorts and relieve the stickiness from her t-shirt. "Yeah but I want to stay a little longer, well if that's okay with you, I'll leave if y—Daryl stood up and stopped her from speaking;

"You don't havta' leave girl, just plant it and I'll thinka' something," Daryl wasn't very smooth and in fact he wasn't even gentle when he spoke not even to a woman, Amy gave him quite the look but he didn't scare her, she didn't get scared that easily. Amy just sat there, kicking rocks at her feet, sweating like a beast in the heat, staring at the tips of his dirty work boots while he paced. He thought to himself about Amy and the consequences of letting her stay; she was so young, and so sweet with a bad side, Merle likes that in a woman, especially how young she was. Fuck what was he supposed to do? And speaking of the devil, Merle slips his big ass out from the depths of that fucking tent to come and see what's up. Fuck that asshole! "So Darlina, whose yer' little friend?" Merle was already starting his crap! Daryl already began to stand his ground and Amy stood up beside him a little bit intimidated by the hard looking man approaching them.

He had a terrible mouth; never spoke nice about anyone or anything as a matter of fact but the way he was looking at Amy, she was sure going to meet the true filthy side of Merle Dixon. Daryl stood before Merle as soon as he was close enough and the atmosphere around them fell dead silent. Staring eachother down was what they always did before getting into a physical argument and physical was what happened.

"Finally gotchur' self a gurl, she's pretty," Merle laughed looking over Daryl's shoulder then back at him. He was teasing him, trying his best to humiliate him in front of a cute girl. Daryl tried not to feel overcome by Merle's words so he continued the stare down, backing up with Amy's wrist in his hand. He didn't want her to get in the middle or even be around this, but Merle just wasn't going to give up, nope, not when he was drunk.

As soon as Amy pulled her hand away, Daryl looked back at her for only a mere second before Merle swiftly got an arm around him and grabbed as much hair as he possibly could from the back of Daryl's skull. The youngest one groaned but not in pain, in frustration and anger. "Get the fuck off me!" Daryl only scolded first off and after a while once he knew for a fact that Merle wasn't letting go soon, he got physical. It was totally dumb of him to do that but he did. He quickly got his own arm around himself towards the back of his head and grabbed tightly to Merle's hand then as fast as he knew he could, he spun Merle around until his back was against him attempting to twist his arm but Merle fought back with a smirk and had Daryl belly-faced down on the ground with one foot on top of his back. Merle looked down at his brother like he was the shit, taking a hold of his arm and pulling it forward until he knew Daryl hurt.

Amy heard Daryl groan in pain and suddenly locked gazes with Merle. He smiled at her and she shimmied backward, looking down at Daryl. "Let him...go!" she opened her mouth, full of care and delicate sweetness, Merle was definitely intrigued by this little girl already. Daryl tried to talk but Merle pulled harder on his arm and put more pressure onto his back. "I'll let 'em go, as soon as you see jus' how _'stron'_ Darlina is, how 'bout that, darlin'?" with that Merle gave his little brother's arm a twist and he cried out loud, cussing up a storm.

"Merle get offa' me, fuck get offa' me you sonuvabitch!" Daryl continued to cuss until the point at which Merle decided it was best to let him go; Amy had already seen enough of his helplessness. She hated seeing him in pain, not being able to defend himself, it frustrated her but she knew better than to get herself into it.

Once Merle released his grip, Daryl jumped up and gave Merle a cold stare. "Are you alright?" Amy didn't know how to react, she didn't even know what to say. Daryl just ignored it and walked away. Amy followed a little worried about him.

He knew she was right behind him, he could hear twigs snap and her lips pant. The air was too moist and sticky; not a good day to be outside.

"Let me ask you somethin' ain't you got anythin' better to do?" Daryl cawed turning around where he met those blue eyes again. Daryl nearly fell over, his heart racing and his head turning. He could now see how bad that must've made her feel but he wasn't about to take it back; "I-I don't and I'd rather be around you than him," Daryl's lips curved only slightly at one end as he stood in place, looking back at her.

Amy burned; she began to use her own hand as a fan, leaning herself up against a tree. She wasn't intending on getting Daryl to stare her way but that's what happened. "H-he's my brother, Merle," Daryl broke the silence and batted at the swarm of gnats.

Amy quit fanning and starting to peel her t-shirt from her moist breasts and stomach. She did it in secrecy though in case he had those wandering eyes again. "Is he always like that?" she asked, still trying to keep herself cool in this hot mess of summer sun. Daryl looked at the sky above, using his hand as a visor. "'course, always been, I think we outta' be headin' back now, I bet he's out huntin'," Daryl put his hand down and turned around walking the way they came with Amy right behind him.

**.**

When they got back to camp, Daryl spotted a walker near the tents. That fuck smelled rancid; He held his bow, clipped in the arrow, wiped a rolling sweat bead from his forehead, pointed and shot. Amy only saw what happened after the poor bastard had his brains spread all over the rocks and grass. What a way to go with an arrow penetrated half-way through the skull.

She looked only somewhat frightend as she crept before Daryl to get a better look at what was once a human being just like them. What a sight that was; Daryl sat down near the fire-pit and looked up at Amy from his lap.

"So you got any siblin's?" Daryl asked, his thoughts running wild as he let both his wrists hang free over both knees. Amy's eyes wandered around for second or so before she looked down at him and sat. "Yeah I have an older sister, she's back with the others, I miss her but I guess it feels good to be away, you know," she looked down between her knees watching all the ants wander from place to place, scattering all about.

Daryl didn't know how that felt, being away from home. He was never away from home, never away from danger, from violence and all the constant abuse. Merle was gone from time to time but never enough. He would miss him when he was a boy, but he got over that.

Daryl shrugged his shoulders and swatted the gnats. Merle soon returned once the moon was big enough to notice out in the far distance just over the trees. It was a beautiful night; Amy talked on for at least a half hour, didn't bug Daryl, yet until Merle came over near the fire and sat his big ass right between the two of them with a bottle of Jim Beam in hand.

"Whatcha' two kiddies been up to while I was gone?" Merle looked over at Daryl then Amy, putting one arm around her shoulders, and the other around Daryl shaking Jim Beam in his face. Daryl smelt something horrid and that something horrid was Merle. Daryl tried not to make eye contact with him but at the side of his face he could see that hand of his all stained in deer blood. Fuck, it smelled so bad. He must've murdered that thing into the ground.

Amy looked over at Daryl who looked back at her. The comfort meter was completely low, neither of them felt safe around him, especially Amy who was not only enclosed by two men but stuck underneath the arm of a hillbilly freak. She swallowed and Merle dropped his bottle in the dirt. "Come on now, talk to ol' Merle, I ain't gonna' bite...hard!" he teased his eyes fell hard on the both of them, arms growing tighter around them.

Daryl wasn't planning on taking anymore of Merle's shit tonight; "We don't wanna' talk Merle, leave us alone!" Daryl shoved Merle's arm off and jumped up. He was standing a little bit too close to the fire and Merle stood up. "Oh is Darlina feelin' scared, feelin' intimidated by ol' Merle, I jus' wanna' talk to you," his rough face went soft all of a sudden, his arms out as if he was pleading for a hug from him. Daryl glared at him and walked away; "Fuck off Merle!" for a moment just as he was about to enter the tent, he remembered little Amy; she was left alone with Merle, that fucking bastard would never leave her alone.

Merle spit to the side and cursed below his breath before taking a squat beside Amy. "Don't mean to scare you, what's yer' name, honey?" he looked over at her, his eyes just as blue as the other Dixon's, just a tint darker, leaning into his lap.

Amy swallowed and craddled her hands into her lap, she was nervous. "A-Amy," she could see Daryl standing up ahead near the tent just watching making sure she was safe, so far so good. Merle smiled and scooted closer until their hips touched. She felt her muscles tense up and that's when Daryl came up to the two of them standing before the fire. "Come on Amy," Daryl waved his hand her way while he stared at Merle, his eyes watching her leave. Amy could feel the tension build up between them and it didn't feel good.

Amy made her way over to Daryl and the both of them went to his tent. He let her get inside and told her to shut her mouth and sleep. Amy didn't understand either of them but she knew Daryl cared about her; he crept right back towards the fire, where Merle sat there staring, his hands locked together. He didn't look as mad or irritated as he was just moments ago, now that the two brothers had a chance to sit together in silence Merle become one with peace. It was never that Merle hated his little brother, he'd always, always loved Daryl but he'd die before he would ever admit that to a living soul. "What's her name?" Merle broke the silence, his eyes staring deep through the burning flames. Daryl turned his head to look at his brother and then back into the fire. "Amy," he said before walking off into the darkened distance.

**E/N: So I know that wasn't a very good ending and I apologize because I hated it too myself but just stay tuned for the next update!**


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